


My Own Superhero: BBC Sherlock Reader Insert

by CorgiTimes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6150115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorgiTimes/pseuds/CorgiTimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old friend of John's, you move in with him and Sherlock at 221B baker street. Proving yourself useful you get brought a long on cases, and you meet a few interesting people along the way. Maybe one of them will even spark your interest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Icey Blue

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first Sherlock fics, sorry if it's shit! :3  
> I am a beginner writer and apologize for anyone being ooc.  
> **There will be talk of suicidal thoughts and self harm scenes. If you are sensitive DO NOT READ**
> 
> I do not own Sherlock, nor any of its characters.

Today was the day. After losing your job as a (profession) you were moving in with your old friend, John Watson. He lived in 221B with his roommate, whom he'd never really wanted to talk about with you. You took a look around your old apartment one last time. You knew you wouldn't miss it much but it still made you sad to leave. Zipping up your small (f/c) suitcase you whispered one last goodbye before shutting the door behind you. Dragging your suitcase down the rickety old stairs you let it bang off of almost every step. You really couldn't care less. As you stepped out the front door, you swore under your breath. Your face was hit with a constant barrage of large raindrops and you quickly became soaked. You yelled for a taxi and got in as quickly as you could.

"221B Baker Street." You nodded to the driver, and you were soon on your way to your new life.

* * * * *

You stepped out of the taxi and paid the Cabbie. You pulled your hood over your (h/l) (h/c) hair as much to your dismay, it was still raining. You walked up to the little door marked '221B' and grabbed on to the little crooked knocker. After knocking a few times the door was opened. You expected to see your old friend there but was instead met with an elderly woman.

"Oh, hello." You greeted.

"Oh, do come in out of the rain!" She responded, stepping out of the way. You could already tell she was a very sweet woman.

"Well, thank you. I'm (y/n)." You smiled, extending your hand to the woman.

"Mrs. Hudson." She grinned, shaking your hand. "Are you here to see Sherlock?"

"John, actually. He's an old friend."

"Ooh, yes, he told me you were coming. He's right up those stairs." Mrs. Hudson informed you.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson. I hope to see you again." You said before heading up the stairs to the flat.

You heard voices coming from inside, you recognized John's and you assumed the other was Sherlock. You lowered your hood, and straightened your jacket. You wanted to make a good first impression to your future flat mate. You pushed your (h/c) hair behind you ear and lifted up your hand to knock on the door. 'Hope I'm not interrupting anything important' you thought to yourself. It only took a few seconds before the door was swung open.

"John, hey!" You said, reaching out to hug your blonde haired friend.

"(y/n)! Its been so long!" John said, returning the hug. "Come on in."

You entered the flat and immediately started noticing a variety of strange things; A yellow smiley face on the wall, filled with bullet holes and, is that a skull? 

"Sherlock, this is my old friend I've been telling you about, (y/n)." John introduced you.

You looked over to the tall curly haired man sitting in a chair. He didn't say anything, just looked you up and down curiously. It quickly made you uncomfortable. You noticed his ice-y blue, almost grey eyes first, and this his striking sharp cheekbones. He wore a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and his black curls were draped messily across his forehead.

"Uh, hi." You said, waving awkwardly.

"Suicidal."

"What?!" You were completely caught of guard. How the hell did he know.

"Bloody hell Sherlock! Can't you just say hello?" Watson said before apologizing to you.

You could already tell why John preferred not to talk about him. John already knew you had been suicidal and had a history of self harm. But you'd been working on it, and you hadn't had any trouble with it recently, so you just dismissed Sherlock's rude introduction.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Sherlock." You smirked, extending your hand to the detective.

The 'consulting detective' continued to stare at you as he shook your hand for a mere second. There was something about him that attracted you and you stared deeper into those ice-y blue eyes of his. You shook your head. 'No way, this guy is a total ass' you scolded yourself for even having a thought of liking him. You turned around to speak to John but Sherlock caught your attention as he started talking again.

"You were born in (hometown name) and moved to London when you were very young. You struggled with social anxiety as a teenager and it led you to self harm, and 1-no... 2 attempts on your life-" He was cut off as you landed a firm slap on his face.

He rubbed the side of his face, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. 'Fiesty' he made a note in his mind palace.

You looked back at John, still smiling. "Where's my room?"


	2. Let's Play A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've only been here one night and now Sherlock wants you to come on a case. Will you prove yourself useful or will you just be another goldfish that the consulting detective will have to deal with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, all I need is one person wanting more and it'll come!  
> Thanks to those who left kudos on the last chapter, that also helps :3

Your first night was less than comfortable. A million things were going through your head. Like how the hell did Sherlock know that? He was a real ass but you were somehow attracted to him? NO. You shooed the thought from your mind, why was your brain so ridiculous? You tried to shut your eyes and just fall asleep but you couldn't. After Sherlock had brought up your past the thoughts and memories had come flooding back. You ran your finger across the little scars on your wrists and sighed. A lonely tear fell down your cheek as you eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

You woke up and rolled around, stretching like a possessed dinosaur before accidently falling off the side of the bed. You groaned and looked over at the clock. '5:30 am, shit' you sighed. But you knew there was no chance of falling back to sleep. Slipping on a pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt you peeked out the door of your bedroom. The lights were off and it didn't seem like anyone else was awake yet. Hoping not to wake anyone up you tiptoed down the hall, and of course, straight to the kitchen.

The first thing you noticed was a large variety of tubes and beakers with different coloured liquids and chemicals inside. 'maybe hes trying to make himself into a superhero'. You attempted to make your way towards the hum of the fridge and ended up stubbing your toe off the leg of the table. 

"Shit!" You yelped. You sigh, hoping you didn't wake anyone up.

"Good morning." You hear a voice come from behind you.

You spun around quickly, holding up your arms in an embarrassing karate-like position. Your eyes were met with the ice-y blue ones of Sherlock Holmes. 

"What the hell Sherlock!" You yelled, pushing him away. However you didn't succeed due to your short stature and ended up just sliding backwards along the floor.

"I was simply being social, is good morning not the proper greeting?"

"Not at 5:30 in the morning when I'm alone in the dark!" You groaned.

"But you weren't alone, I was here."

"Oh just shut up!" You yelled before storming back to your room.

* * * * * 

Sherlock swung open the door to your room. 

"John and I are going on a case."

"And why should I care?" You sighed, covering your head with your pillow.

"Because you're going to come with us."

"What?!" You pulled the pillow off your head to look at him.\\\

"You surely didn't expect a free stay did you?"

"Fine give me ten minutes!" You moaned and chucked your pillow at him.

* * * * *

Walking up to the crime scene you immediately got nervous. You didn't know how to solve a crime? What skills could you have that could ever be useful? Sighing, you wondered if you should just turn back now. You looked back for the taxi, much to your dismay it had already taken off. 'Shit' you muttered under your breath. You went to pass under the yellow police tape but you were stopped by a curly haired woman.

"She's with me, Donovan." Sherlock said to the woman.

"What? Another freak like you?"

"No-" He replied, "one like you."

You didn't have time to be offended. You spun around to see John putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't be too offended, he talks about everyone like that." He said, sympathetically.

"I can tell." You responded, before continuing further into the scene.

Following behind Sherlock and John you entered an old building. You coughed from the dust and dragged yourself up a rickety set of steps. You walked into a small side room and almost vomited when you saw the body. There were holes in the body, mainly the torso with notes and various small items inside. You looked up and on the wall written in yellow spraypaint was 'Let's Play Operation :) -M". What kind of sick son of a bitch would do this?

"Moriarty." You head Sherlock say. He appeared to be very deep in thought.

"Who's Moriarty?" You turned to John, even he seemed terrified.

"He's trouble, that's what he is."

"Look, Sherlock. You brought me along so clearly you want me to do something. What's my job?" You wanted to bring this sick fuck down.

After standing there motionless the curly haired man turned around to face you. "To give the perspective of a goldfish."

"Goldfish?"

"It's basically his name for 'normal people'." John answered for him, knowing Sherlock would find a way to insult you if he let him speak.

Everyone leaned forward to see the body closer. There were five pits in total, each filled with a mess of blood, organs and bone. In the first one, there was a note that read 'Hey Sherlock, long time no see!' with a pocket watch attached. Another hole, another note. Each second spent staring at this body made you even more disgusted. 'The thought of you really does make my heart soar' this time, a small plastic airplane. 'What the hell is going on' was all you could think. You looked over to the next one; 'Sometimes, I even thought I couldn't live without you', a small length of rope. This made you cringe. At least you were almost done. 'But I put myself back together and decided', a roll of scotch tape was included with this one. You let out a sigh of relief as you came to the last disgusting hole, 'That i'd play another game' the final item included was a small toy yo-yo.

"What the fuck is all this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again :D  
> I've got a good idea for Moriarty's little game :3


	3. Clocks and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its only your first case and you already feel useless. Will Moriarty's game ever be won?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :3  
> I'd love to read your comments!

Backing up from the body you pulled your jumper over your nose. It was absolutely disgusting. You could feel a rage burning deep within you, this 'Moriarty' needed to be taken down. As you surveyed the room you noticed there was more yellow spray paint on another wall. 

"24 Hours." You read out loud. You had no idea what the hell was going on and now there was a time limit?

You noticed Sherlock get up and watched as he strode out of the room. Bewildered you looked over to John, seeking some kind of answer.

"We can talk back at the flat, let's just make sure Sherlock doesn't get himself into trouble." John said, motioning you out of the room and down the stairs.

You searched around outside the building but it was obvious Sherlock had already fled the scene. You and John decided that the best place to go was to the flat, assuming Sherlock would be there. You jumped in a cab and were off on your way. The reality of going on started to really hit you. Some had just been murdered and their body mutilated for the sake of sending a message? This was fucked up.

"Is it always this messed up?" You squeaked to John.

"No, this is unique to, to... Moriarty." He seemed to shudder at the mention of the man's name.

"If I ever meet this Moriarty guy I'll bring him down my self." You growled.

"Now promise me you won't do that (y/n). Promise me you'll keep yourself safe." He sighed.

John was a couple years older than you and had always acted like an older brother figure. Always concerned for you and trying to keep you safe. You didn't mind too much but sometimes it made you feel like you hadn't had any independence.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. But don't expect me to just stand by and watch." You groaned.

* * * * *

As you reached the flat Sherlock was in the kitchen examining something under the microscope. Most likely samples from the crime scene. You went straight to the couch in an attempt to decompress and think. Sherlock hadn't said anything since the crime scene so you knew he must know this 'Moriarty' personally. He seemed very concentrated so obviously, just like you he was trying to figure out what the hell this game was all about. 5 notes, 5 items, did 5 have some significance? Or maybe it was 10? Oh what the hell were you saying, you were no detective.

"Sherlock, there were 5 items, does 5 seem significant to you in any way?" John spoke up, clearly he was thinking the same way as you were.

"No John, Moriarty doesn't think that simply." At least Sherlock was speaking again. "(y/n, any ideas?"

Once again you were caught off guard. "W-why ask me? You said it yourself, Moriarty doesn't think simply." You knew you were just putting yourself down after having been defensive about it earlier, but you didn't care.

"Good point, just try not to think too loud then." Sherlock replied, carelessly rude as always.

You chuckled and decided to grab a quick snack. 'Brain food should help' you thought to yourself. You grabbed the handle of the fridge before you were interrupted by John.

"I'm not sure you want to do that (y/n)." He warned.

"It's just a fridge." You shrugged him off, swinging the fridge door open.

"What the fuck!" A head. A fucking head was in their fridge.

"I warned you." Watson laughed at you.

"Why is there a head in your fridge!?" You screamed angrily at both of them.

"Experiment." Sherlock mumbled.

"Oh, its an experiment. I guess that makes it perfectly ok to keep a head in your fridge!"

"Look (y/n), I have far more important things to worry about right now. I'm trying to solve a murder if you hadn't noticed."

"But it's more than that isn't it. It's not just a murderer it's a damn psychopath!" You started to freak out.

John put his hands on your shoulders. Trying to calm you down.

"(y/n). I think you should go lay down for a bit and take a break."

You wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

"Yeah, yeah ok." You sighed and walked towards your bedroom.


	4. Pieces Put Together And Others Broken Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think you've figured out Moriarty's little game, but your 24 hours are almost up. Will you make it to the rescue in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a request for more protective Sherlock, so we may see the start of that in this chapter.  
> Thanks for the Kudos and comments! :D  
> Decided to treat you guys with a bit of a longer chapter.
> 
> This chapter does include self harm, do not read if you are sensitive.

'Shit' you slowly opened your eyes. You'd fallen asleep. You mentally slapped yourself, 'There's a time limit to this thing ya know!' You rolled out of bed and looked over at the clock. 6 pm. It had been 9 am when you got to the crime scene. That meant there was now 15 hours left for you and your mates to figure out this thing. Maybe they already had? You walked down the hall and into the main area. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, hands together under his chin, and John sat in his chair flipping through channels on the television. Something about some huge business party for these two big companies.

"Made any progress?" You asked them, hoping they would have figured it out.

Sherlock stayed silent, you assumed he was in what John had referred to as his 'mind palace' so John spoke up.

"No idea, he's just been in that damn mind palace of his the whole time." John answered, causing you to sigh. You'd hoped they'd even made the slightest advance.

"Why don't we go out for dinner?" Sherlock spoke, catching your attention.

"Because there's a 'game' we have to play?" You told him.

"You were clearly overwhelmed earlier, we might as well take our minds of things for a bit." He answered, brushing past you.

"Oh well, alright I suppose" 

* * * * *

He had brought you and John to a charming little fish and chips place around the corner. You noticed as you went to sit down he pulled your chair out for you. Maybe he wasn't as much of an ass as you had been thinking. Sherlock hadn't ordered anything and you and john had gotten a plate of fish and chips each. Realizing you hadn't eaten since you had arrived you quickly scarfed down your food. You realized it wasn't your most ladylike moment as John and Sherlock just stared at you and you started to blush.

"What? I haven't eaten in a while." You squeaked out, embarrassed. 

"It's important that you maintain a proper diet." Sherlock said.

"Coming from you?! I've started to see it myself and even John's told me you barely ever eat!" Sherlock looked over at John who started to sink into his chair.

"I'm unimportant. We're talking about you. If you ever need food just tell me."

Your face burned an even brighter red as you tried to hide it behind your food but you knew both the men had noticed. "I think, I think I need to go to the washroom." 

You heard the two men continue to talk as you got further away.

"Did I say something wrong?" Sherlock asked John.

"You really are thick, aren't you Sherlock." John answered.

* * * * *

By the time you got back at was almost 7:30. Another hour and a half gone from figuring out the puzzle. You and John spent the next few hours trying to find any sort of connection to anything while Sherlock spent the time in his mind palace. By 11pm there had been little to no progress made and time was quickly running out. John decided he needed to get some rest and started to head off to bed, telling you that you should probably sleep too. He was followed by Sherlock. You didn't understand how they could sleep at a time like this, maybe Sherlock was closer to figuring it out than you thought. 

Fortunately your nap from earlier led to you being more awake than ever and you continued to try and figure out the puzzle. However this only led to you feeling more and more useless and you decided to take a quick bathroom break to gather your thoughts. You started to feel like shit, you'd done nothing useful. Nothing to help anyone, as you buried your face in your hands. You sat on the edge of the toilet crying into your palms and shaking. You looked at your self in the mirror and your attention was slowly drawn to a small razor on the edge of the sink. 'No, you're better than this' you desperately tried to talk yourself out of it. 'Relieve the mental pain with physical pain' you argued with yourself. Ever since Sherlock had brought it up the day before you had longed for the relief of the blade on your skin, and you made up your mind. You picked up the blade and put it against your arm, trying to keep your hand steady as you shook and cried. You pressed the blade into your skin and sighed. Ashamed of what you had done. 

"(y/n) what are you doing!" You heard John yell from outside.

"Sherlock! Help me!" He yelled again, oh great. It was bad enough John had caught you, but Sherlock too?

You stood up slowly, gripping your arm with one hand and opening the door with the other. You cried and fell straight into Sherlock's arms. He lowered you to the ground but still held on.

"(y/n) that's not the solution to your problems." He spoke softly to you, as John ran to his room to get medical supplies. You felt as though maybe Sherlock was growing feelings for you too.

You kept your eyes shut and just cried into his shoulder. You didn't want to have to face anyone. You were way too embarrassed. After John cleaned and patched your cut you squeaked out a thanks.

"(y/n) I think you should get some sleep now, doctor's orders." John spoke to you, friendly yet stern.

"O-ok.." You whimpered, lifting yourself onto your feet and stumbling to your bedroom.

* * * * * 

You woke up with a start. Maybe you'd been going about this game all wrong. It wasn't the numbers or the notes that were important, maybe it was the items. What other purpose could they have? 8 am. You only had one hour.You burst out of your room, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil. You wrote down all the items that had been found in the body.

Pocket watch  
Airplane  
Rope  
Tape  
Yo yo

PARTY. The items spelled out party. Holy shit. It all started coming together. That business party, something was going to happen there. It all made you feel like fucking Einstein.

"Sherlock! John!" You screamed, and they came running into the main room.

"Are you alright!" John yelled. You had a huge smile plastered on your face.

"I figured it out!" You yelped, this surprised Sherlock.

"Pocket watch, Airplane, Rope, Tape and a Yo yo. It spells out party! Isn't there a huge business party going on today?"

"Oh my god. Sherlock there are going to be over a thousand people there!" John started to panic and so did you.

"Let's go." Sherlock said before grabbing his coat and rushing out the door.

* * * * *

Sherlock's phone went off as you were on your way to the large building the party was at.

'A Goldfish figured out my puzzle but you couldn't?

Althought I must admit, she's got quite the explosive personality ;)'

-M

It all made sense now. A bomb. A bomb was set to go off at this party at 9 am. It was ten minutes to 9 as the cab sped down the road and pulled up outside of the mansion. You had called the police and they were on their way as well. 

The three of you burst into the building. 

"Everybody get out!" You all screamed, gaining the stares of hundreds of party go-ers and businessmen.

Nobody would move, until Greg Lestrade and a bunch of policemen came inside. That's when everyone started to panic and push and shove their way out of the building. Causing you to get trampled underneath. It seemed as though everyone had made it out on time but Sherlock looked around to see you lying in the middle of the floor, unconscious. 8:59. He sprinted over and picked you up, carrying you out of the building as fast as he could. You both made it safely outside. The whole street shook as the building went up in a giant explosion.


	5. Authors Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! :0

Sorry for the lack of updates, I was away and just really didn't have time.  
Expect to see more chapters put up soon though! :D

Thanks for all the support and comments <3   
This is my first 'big' fic and I really appreciate it :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During your recovery you spend the time trying to work out the things going on in your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one sorry, been really busy and not super motivated :3

As your eyes flitted open you were met with the harsh light and pure white-ness of the room. You groaned and turned you head away. Your vision was still blurry and you saw a figure sitting in the chair beside you.

"Sherlock?" You asked with a raspy voice.

"No, sorry." You were met with John's voice and you tried to hide your disappointment.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I've been better." You chuckled. You tried to sit up but the pain hit you and you gave up.

"Hey hey, be careful." He said concerned, grabbing onto you and laying you down gently.

"I'm fine." You groaned, pushing him away. You hated needing help, especially from John.

"Alright." He sighed. "I assume you'd prefer to be alone?"

"Yes." You sighed, feeling bad about upsetting him.

* * * * *

Now that John had left you were having your first time not having to worry about anything or anyone. There was so much you needed to run through your mind.

1\. You had just saved over a thousand people.

Were you actually useful? You'd actually saved lives. You were overwhelmed with pride but tried not to let it get the best of you. You couldn't even believe how you had figured it out but you had, and that's what was important. You felt like you had finally found a purpose in this so far, meaningless life.

2\. Moriarty.

Who was he? What connection did he have to Sherlock? He was clearly twisted. Only a real sick fuck would do something like that to a person, just for the purpose of screwing with someone else. But he wasn't completely insane, he couldn't be. He was smart, smart and insane. That's what scared you.

3\. Sherlock.

You loved him and hated him all at the same time. He seemed to care about you but he had just seemed like such an asshole. Your head started to pound just thinking about him. So confused, so conflicted. You knew from your meal the other day that John had noticed but Sherlock was a daft genius. You sighed and tried to fall asleep again.

* * * * *

Your eyes darted open as you heard the floor creak. You turned over and saw the long black coat flowing in through the doorway. Him. Of course its him. You found yourself once again conflicted. You wanted to talk to him, but you also felt like you couldn't bear to look at him.

"How are you doing?" The voice seemed as cold an emotionless as always but you swore you could sense a hint of caring in it. Whatever, it was probably just your mind playing tricks.

"I-I'm fine." You squeaked out. You found yourself at a loss for words. It was like finally getting to talk with your 8th grade crush.

"You are obviously not. You were trampled. Cracked rib, dozens of bruises, disclocated-"

"Sherlock, stop." You didn't want to hear about it.

"I'm... sorry" Was he really apologizing? It seemed like he couldn't even believe it himself. He moved to sit down in the hospital room chair. You tried to avoid making eye contact, you hated how vulnerable and weak you probably looked.

You sighed. "Sherlock, I-I.."

He cut you off. "Need more morphine? More pillows?"

"Sherlock. For a supposed 'genius' you really can be an idiot."


	7. Recoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to finally get back to normal when you return to the flat to recover. But with Sherlock as a flatmate, things never really are normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh, sorry these are so slow coming guys D:

You'd been back at 221b for a few days now and you were finally getting relaxed. You still hadn't brought up the courage to attempt to confess your love to Sherlock after your failure at the hospital. It honestly blew your mind how someone could be so oblivious. It made you wonder if Sherlock did know, and was just being the regular old ass that he was, but you felt you knew that wasn't true. The door creaked open and you saw the short silhouette of John in the doorway.

"Hey, how are you this morning?" He asked, laying down a plate of breakfast on your side table.

"Still bringing me breakfast John?"

"I know you like to be independent, but, you're still not fine yet." He whined in your ear.

"Bacon!" You exclaimed, pushing him out of the way. "Alright I accept." 

"Enjoy it." John laughed and left your room.

* * * * *

Laying down on the couch watching the tv, you were struck by how normal it all was. No saving lives, chasing murderers just, living. You let out a relaxed breath and sunk deeper into the couch. You took another spoonful of ice cream and crammed it into your mouth. Now this was the life. You let out a happy groan but were stopped short by Sherlock walking into the room. Why did he always seem to be there at your worst moments?

"You must really like ice cream."

"Yea, so what." You mumbled, cramming more in your mouth.

Sherlock watched you as he strode across the room, turning off the tv, much to your dismay. However you became curious as he picked up a violin. 

"You play?" You asked him.

"Compose." He responded in an almost boastful tone.

As he began to play it was like heaven. Beautiful music, and it sounded like nothing you'd ever heard before. You shut your eyes and you felt yourself being pulled into a relaxing, ice cream filled haven. You didn't think you could love him even more than you already did.

* * * * *

It was midnight and you groaned as you really needed to pee. Attempting to pull yourself out of bed, the pain was still there and you winced. Pushing your way through the door you fell flat on your face. 

"Ouuuuch" you groaned groggily. Laying on your stomach, defeated, you heard a door open down the hall. Shit.

"(y/n)." It was Sherlock's voice, damnit. 

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"I'm in my underwear." You growled.

"I made that observation as well." You heard him walking closer to you.

You rolled over onto your back to look him in the eye. All he wore was a pair of grey boxers and it was hard to take your eyes of his body.

"Need help getting up?" He reached out to you. You smacked his hand away.

"Oi, look but don't touch." You joked, slowly lifting yourself back up to your feet.

"Anyways, we shouldn't be seeing each other like this, yet." Oh shit. Was that out loud?

Sherlock just stared at you as you ran, or at least what a cripple might call running, into the washroom. Before locking yourself inside. You heard another door open and assumed John had joined Sherlock out in the hall.

"What's going on here?" You recognized John's voice.

"(y/n) likes me."


	8. A Realization Among Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally figured it out. And both of you aren't sure how to feel about it. Although it looks like you might already be meeting the family...

Ever since Sherlock had figured it out that you liked him, You'd been making your best effort to avoid him. Which had obviously proved itself quite difficult when you lived in the same flat. You kept to yourself, staying in your room. You knew you should feel relieved he finally realized but you almost felt as though you liked when he didn't know. You still weren't even sure if you liked him! It burned at your insides, boy troubles, it made you feel like you were back in middle school again. The boys had at least been leaving you alone for the most part, John knew better than to mess with you when you were emotional and you had often heard Sherlock composing. You didn't hear anyone around and attempted to sneak you way out to the kitchen. You felt you should know better than to think the fridge would have food, but you had a smidge of hope in your stomach.

You peaked out the door, your (e/c) eyes flitting around to check for any signs of the boys. You didn't seem them anywhere near, and attempted to tiptoe down the hall. The floor creaked, you weren't exactly known for being graceful. It was almost noon now, so you hoped they'd be out of the house by now. Maybe on a case, or catching up with friends. Did they even have friends? You'd never really seen them with anyone else, and you were sure that Donovan and Anderson weren't friends at all. You slunk your way to the kitchen, relieved to find the boys were gone. You didn't know, nor did you care where they were. They weren't here and that's what mattered, you let out the breath you'd been holding while creeping in.

You creaked open the fridge, no longer shocked by the head and other body parts contained inside. Of course it was empty, you weren't sure what you expected. You dragged yourself back to your room. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a (f/c) shirt. You'd have to go out to get food. You lifted up everything in your room and managed to find enough change for at least a bit of food. You didn't really care, getting out of the house would be nice enough anyways. You just hoped you wouldn't bump into the boys while you were out.

* * * * *

Walking down the side walk you struggled to decide where you wanted to eat. It had to be cheap, and you wanted to find somewhere quick as the rain poured down on you. You searched around but your attention was caught as a nearby phone box started to ring. 'Is that supposed to happen?' you thought to yourself, and you knew it wasn't. You were struck by your curiosity and ran inside to pick up the phone. It was also an excuse for shelter from the rai

"Hello?" You asked curiously.

"We're watching you, so trust me when I say that you can't run." You started to get scared as you looked up at the public cameras which were all pointing at you. 'Moriarty?' you shivered as the thought crossed your mind, you'd seen first hand what he was capable of.

"Moriarty?" You questioned the mystery caller.

"I'm sending a car to come pick you up." You looked over and right on cue, a small black car stopped on the street and a door opened, presumably for you.

"I'm not just going to get in some random car!" You sounded confident, but on the inside you were terrified. You tried to look around for a way out but you knew the cameras were watching.

"Just get in the car, (y/n)." If this was Moriarty, you didn't want to fight. You started to shake as you put down the phone and tentatively got into the car.

You didn't look at the driver, and he didn't look at you. He just started driving. A million things were going through your head. You instantly regretted avoiding Sherlock and John, maybe then you wouldn't be alone. What if you would never see them again? You tried to put on a brave face as the car pulled to a stop. You had entered an old, and mostly empty parking garage. The lights were mostly off as you were led deeper into the garage. You chose not to struggle and just went with the man. You noticed the silhouette of a man in the garage.

"Are you, Moriarty?" You whimpered, trying but failing to sound brave.

"I assure you I am not, and I am not uncivilized either, please take a seat." He spoke calmly, motioning to a chair next to you. You sat down slowly.

"Ive noticed you've moved in with my brother. And I wish you the best of luck with that." Brother? You assumed Sherlock's, John would've mentioned a brother. As far as you knew he only had a sister. As your eyes adjusted to the dark you noticed his very expensive suit and you continued to let him talk.

"All I ask is information, I only wish to keep him safe."

"What kind of information?" You didn't even know that much about Sherlock anyways.

"Oh just, where he's going, what he's up to. General information is all I need." You eyed him up and down, A typical protective older brother, just more... posh.

"Sorry, no thanks." You still weren't sure if you could trust this guy, It could still be Moriarty this whole time. 

"My driver will take you to a nice cheap restaurant. Oh and (y/n), don't worry, Ill know if you change your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should be getting back into regular updates soon! Kind of getting back into my flow and I especially appreciate all the motivation and kind messages from you guys <3


	9. Figuring it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its finally time to confront Sherlock about your possible relationship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short one, but an important one c:

After you'd had something to eat you made your way back to 221B. You figured the boys would be back by now so you would have to try and sneak in. Opening the door slowly, you tip toed in. As you made your way up the stairs you realized you'd never noticed just how creaky they were. If the boys didn't know you were here before, they definitely did now. You gave up on trying to be quiet and pushed your soggy (h/c) hair out of your face before opening the door to the flat. You were immediately caught by Sherlock's ice blue gaze and you tried to make your way to your room before being caught.

"Sit down." Trying to ignore him you continue on your way.

"(Y/N), sit down." You kept your head down and continued to trudge along only to run into a figure in the hallway. John.

"(Y/N), you need to talk to him about this."

"I don't think I do John, now let me through."

"Yea, you do." He said, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around back into the main room.

You sat down on the couch and tried to avoid Sherlock's striking gaze. 

"Love is a distraction." Sherlock started, and you immediately started to turn red. Was Sherlock saying he loved you?

"And if you're going to come on cases I can't have you being distracted." Fuck. So he didn't like you and even worse it seemed like he didn't want you liking him.

It was too much for you to handle. You were embarrassed and angry. You weren't gonna listen anymore so you stormed out of the room and down the hall, pushing your way past John as he tried to stop you. Sherlock just kept his fingers pointed under his chin and stared off into the distance. Contemplating... something. Crashing your way through the door and slamming it behind you, you buried your face into your pillow. You'd fucked everything up. You never should've opened your damn mouth. You heard John slamming on your door.

"(Y/N)! Let me in!" He knew what you were about to do.

You'd fallen back into that same shitty feeling. That shitty feeling you'd had nagging at you all your life while growing up. You scrambled around your room for something, anything sharp. Tears streaming down your face as John kept trying to force the door open. A knife from your breakfast a few days ago. Perfect. You pushed yourself to the corner of the room placing the blade against your quivering skin, You shook as you cut into yourself, but you tried to keep the cut as clean as possible. You yelped as the door was kicked open, causing you to jump. This sent the blade across your arm, making a long painful cut. John sprinted it and ripped the knife from your grasp while Sherlock grabbed onto you. The blood on your arms mixed with tears as you avoided Sherlock's poignant stare.

"I thought you were over this!" John screamed at you, flailing his arms around.

"John, can you leave us alone?" You heard Sherlock from behind you. No no no, you didn't want to be alone with Sherlock but you couldn't speak between your sobs. 

"Love is a distraction." Sherlock spoke up as John left the room.

"I know, y-you already told me." you spoke shakily as you cried.

"So if this relationship is going to work, you need to promise me you can be focused when you need to." You looked up at him, surprised.

"I-I promise."


	10. Artificial Ameteur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you don't have it already, you can get this free google chrome app.   
> It changes (Y/N) to your actual name, or whatever name you input.  
> I use it and it definitely helps me get more immersed in a fic.  
> https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli?hl=en

It had been almost a week now since that last time you cut yourself. You and Sherlock's relationship was, awkward to say the least, but it worked. He was there for you when you needed someone, and he could -always- tell when you needed someone. Sherlock would often tell you that you made him feel more human, and that he was quite fond of it. You often marvelled at the thought of being able to make Sherlock more human. You weren't sure if it was even possible to make him human. But that was who you were in love with, Sherlock the alien. Everything was going right for you, but it only took one case for things to start going wrong again.

"Hello (y/n)." Sherlock opened the door to your bedroom waking you up. "John and I have a new case, and after you solved that other one I thought you might like to come along?"

"Really? O-Of course, yea, sure I'll come." What you'd seen last time had scarred you, but the rush and excitement had left an even deeper imprint.

You didn't want to seem childish, so you attempted to hide your excitement. Lifting up the covers, you got out of bed and quickly put on an outfit. Noticing Sherlock watching you as you got dressed. You turned towards him and got up on your tippy toes to kiss him on his sharp cheeks. He still didn't smile but you could feel him turning red. The two of you joined John in the main room as you put on a coat and your running shoes.

* * * * *

As you sat in the taxi, sandwiched between the two boys you started to think. What might you find at this crime scene? Neither of them had told you what it was. Would it be like last time? You started to get excited again but at the same time very nervous. Last time almost a thousand lives depended on you, and you weren't sure how you might feel about having that responsibility again. You shut your eyes as you tried not to imagine what would've happened if you hadn't been fast enough. As the taxi pulled to a stop, the three of you made your way to the crime scene.

You were once again met with the curly haired woman whom Sherlock had called 'Donovan'. You had only met her once but you already didn't like her.

"Freak's here!" She called out before turning to you. "And he brought that lady friend again!"

You shot her a nasty look as you tried to push past her but she grabbed your shoulder.

"Stay away from him. He's dangerous" You just stared at her. "I'm warning you, he's not safe."

"Thanks for the warning, but I think I'd much rather be with him than the likes of you." You snarl, continuing on into the scene.

It was a basement of an old abandoned house. Abandoned places, they always seemed to be the setting for a crime. A short skeleton was laying against the wall. Fortunately, it seemed too large to be a child. Sherlock pulled out his magnifying glass to inspect the skeleton and you searched around the rest of the basement for clues. It seemed mostly barren, just a typical basement. Minus the skeleton of course. Although, you thought you saw something move in the corner of you eye. You turned to investigate it. As you got closer a hand was thrust over your mouth. Your eyes widened as you flailed your arms, trying to remove the hand. You lost your balance as you were dragged back into the darkness. Everyone else oblivious to what was going on behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good chapter coming up  
> hold onto your butts


	11. Moriarty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been taken captive and Sherlock is nowhere to be found. Will he find you in time?

You groaned as your eyes slowly opened, only revealing more darkness. The air was humid and you could hear water dripping somewhere in the distance. As you slowly came to your senses you jumped up, except, you couldn't. You were laying down on a cold metal table. Both your hand and legs were tied down. Shit shit shit. You tugged harder and harder trying to free yourself from your bonds but the rope just started to burn against your skin.

"Oh, please stop. It's pathetic." A slightly Irish voice came from out of the darkness.

This only caused you to panic more. You started to sweat heavily shaking as you heard every step bringing your captor closer and closer. Oh god. You hadn't thought about him for weeks but, was this Moriarty? Your fear grew intensely as you shook your (h/c) hair out of your face. As the steps grew closer a cold hand stroked the side of your face and you tensed up. You tried to move your head away but you couldn't make it very far.

"So this is Sherlock's little pet." He spoke slowly and cold making you shiver. You wondered if you should try and talk back, but if this was Moriarty you knew what he could do, and you wouldn't risk that.

"Awww what? Cat got your tongue?" He teased, grabbing you chin and forcing your head up to look at him. It was dark but you could make out a little bit what he looked like. Black hair and a very expensive looking suit. Your lip quivered, trying your best not to yell at him.

"Oh do speak up!" His slow tone quickly changed to an angry yell as he slapped you across the face. 

"My mom taught me not to talk to strangers." You said to him, angrily. You were done being the scared little girl.

"Ooh but you know exactly who I am. You know me, I can tell. Just say it." Your breath hitched. So it was him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the memories of that body started flooding back to you.

"Just say it. You know who I am and I want to hear it. Say it! Just say it!" He started to yell angrily again.

"Moriarty." It was barely more than just a whisper.

"Speak up!" Moriarty yelled, accompanied by another slap across the face.

"Moriarty!" You yelled, lifting yourself up as far as you could to yell in his face.

"Much better. I like that." His voice had returned to normal, as he leaned in, inches from your face.

"Why did you kidnap me anyways? Why do you want me?" You muttered.

"Oh I don't want you. I want Sherlock." He spoke, dragging out his name and putting emphasis on the 'k'.

Sherlock. The only hope you had left. You half hoped that he wouldn't come, you didn't want Sherlock to get himself hurt, or worse killed. Just for you.

"And anyone knows the best way to get to Sherlock is through the people he loves, because well, love," He continued on.

"-love is a distraction." He grinned through his teeth. That meant he'd been watching you. You'd never been safe.

"Anyways..." He kneeled down beside the table. "I've got to go set something up for my little pal Sherlock. See you in the morning."

You felt something pierce your neck before everything went back to black again.


	12. Light at the End of the Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no concept of time, you have no idea how long you've been trapped. Is Sherlock even close to finding you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor torture-y stuff mmmmmmm. Don't read if you don't like.  
> I did quick research on torture for this one. It was no fun lmao

As your eyes slowly opened once again you noticed you were now in a different room. Instead of on a flat table you were now tied to a wooden chair, with harsh scratchy rope bonding your hands and legs. There was a lonely, dull light dangling down and swinging from the ceiling directly above you, just adding to the creepy factor. There was a single door on the right at the front of the room. Although it was dark you might guess about 10 metres away. How long had you been here anyways? Moriarty had said he would 'see you in the morning' so more than a few hours. You hoped with all your heart Sherlock had put this time to good use. As you heard footsteps slowly coming down the hallway you wondered if you should try and act like you were still asleep but you figured it wouldn't be worth it as he was probably coming to wake you up if you weren't already. The door creaked open and even in the dim light you recognized Moriarty's features. Especially that westwood suit of his.

"Shame, I was hoping I'd have the pleasure of waking you up this morning." His voice echoed through the room.

"Well, you know I prefer to start my mornings with a much more attractive face." You mumbled, thinking about Sherlock was the only thing keeping your spirits up.

"Ahhhh yes, speaking of your little boyfriend." Moriarty practically spat the last word in your face as he walked closer. "I've left him some clues which should lead him right to us. Of course, it will take him quite a while. If he is smart enough of course. So the question for now is," He leaned into your ear and started to whisper "how to pass the time."

This made you shiver as you tried to pull away from him the chair barely scraping across the floor before he grabbed hold of your face. Pointing your head towards him your eyes were only centimetres apart and you became more and more scared as he stared into you. You knew what this man was capable of and you were terrified.

"For your own sake, I recommend you don't struggle, but for my sake, go ahead." He said and grinned, before exiting the room once again.

After he was gone you let out the breath you'd been holding in. There was sweat beading on your forehead and your whole body was shaking. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to be able to spit in the face of Moriarty and not even flinch but you couldn't. That's not how it was. In reality you were more scared than you'd ever been in your entire life. You felt helpless, and at the moment, it was the worst feeling in the world. You tried to imagine Sherlock bursting in and saving you, but Moriarty had said it would take him a while. You let your head fall back as you whispered to no one in particular. "Please, get me out of here." 

It seemed like just a couple of minutes before Moriarty came back into the room. This time he had with him someone else whom you didn't recognize, and this man was carrying behind him a trolley. You heard things clattering around on top as the wheels rolled over all the bumps on the floor and you were imagining the worst. Moriarty walked closer to you, gently placing a hand on your cheek as you tensed up.

"Such a pretty face." He cooed. "It will be such a shame to mess it up." You shut your eyes not wanting to have to look at him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" His voice shifted to a yell again as he slapped you across the face. A feeling you'd already become far too familiar with. You opened your eyes, they used to be a vibrant (e/c) but they were now dull, and Moriarty could tell the life was already fading from them. 

"Much better. You know, they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and I do love to see them fade." He walked back to the man with the trolley. "Give her the works." He said to him. Just before Moriarty walked out he looked back to you, flashing a devilish grin before slamming the door behind him.

You heard the man snapping on rubber gloves. This just made you fear even more that it was going to get messy, and that was very bad news for you.

"Don't worry love." His voice was deep and intimidating. "I'll start off slow." He said, while running a cloth down the blade of a small knife. "Now keep still, or it'll be worse for the both of us." He walked closer, until he was standing to the right of your chair, knife in hand.

Your eyes looked as far to the side as they could without moving your head and you were horrified to find the knife pointed straight at your cheek. It was just a few millimetres from your face and you were all tensed up when he stopped. 

"Oh, you might need this." He said, pulling out a bandana from his pocket before gagging your mouth with it. "As much as Moriarty likes to hear the screams, I'm not so fond of them."

You started to shake even more violently but you were too petrified to try and move as he returned to his position with the knife. In a split second the knife was on your cheek and he dragged it down the side of your face, making a horizontal line a couple centimetres long. You flinched, it didn't hurt that much but the pain was still there. He made a few more lines and when he was done you recognized the shape. This man had just finished carving an 'M' into your cheek and you could feel the blood falling down your face and soaking into your shirt. The blood quickly mixed with tears as you felt more and more violated. When you came to London a few weeks ago you would have never imagined yourself in a position like this.

"Crying already? We've barely even started love." He walked back to his trolley as you watched him fiddle around with various tools. You noticed him picking up various things like saws and hammers, and as he pulled up each one you were overcome with a wave of fear flushing over your body. 

After seemingly deciding on his tool of choice, he turned around. Revealing an iron comb commonly used for preparing wool. It had two rows of sharp teeth, each just over an inch long. He touched the ends to make sure they were sharp before walking closer to you. Your muscles once again tensed as he reached down and pulled your shirt up, leaving your stomach exposed. He ran the comb along your middle gently, making you shiver. You were caught off guard and let out as a muffled scream as he suddenly pushed the comb into your skin and dragged it painfully across your stomach. Tearing up your skin and flesh and throwing blood everywhere. You screamed into the bandana as your stomach stung and the immense pain took over your body. He walked back to his trolley, your muffled screams still filling the room. He dropped the comb back onto the trolley and it clattered around the other objects.

This time he returned with nothing in his hands. He walked slowly around to the back of the chair and untied one of your hands. The pain was too overwhelming for you to even think of fighting back. He lifted your arm up in front of you before breaking your forearm in one swift motion. You let out another muffled scream as he dropped the now broken arm down to dangle by your side. As the pain grew and grew your vision started to blur into just black and all you could hear was ringing in your ears. WIth the tiny bit of consciousness you had left you saw the man turn around to face the door as it swung open an a figure burst into the room.

"Sherlock?" Was all you could say before you completely lost consciousness.


	13. No Longer Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock realizes the constant danger he's put you in an tries to keep you safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for over 1000 views!  
> I never expected it to get this large, thank you all so much <3

Shaking and broken your chair had been tipped over and your cheek was pushed against the cold hard floor. You were slipping in and out of consciousness constantly. Your eyes burned as dozens of lights filled the room and numerous soldiers came in. Most of them ran after your torturer and threw him to the ground but you recognized the shape of Sherlock and John running straight towards you. Sherlock grabbed your head and looked into your (e/c) eyes which were lazily lolling about inside your skull. It was too hard to try and focus and you were constantly blacking out for seconds at a time. John untied your arms and legs and your limp body fell against the floor. Sherlock's face seemed panicked and desperate, something you've never seen on him before. His lips were moving, obviously trying to speak to you as he pulled you closer to his chest. but you couldn't hear a thing. You looked into those sparkling eyes you loved and lifted up your good arm to touch his cheek. You forced a painful smile before you blacked out for good.

 

* * * * *

 

As your eyes slowly opened (something that seemed to happen far too often now) you were once again met with the familiar white walls of the hospital. You looked down at yourself, a total wreck. Your stomach was wrapped in thick layers of bandages and was still staining them red. Your right arm was in a large cast and hurt like hell. The last thing you noticed was the large white patch on your right cheek. You grunted at the pain and noticed a sudden movement to your left. Sherlock was sitting in the chair next to you, an it looked like he had been there a while. He called for a nurse before coming to your bedside.

"Good morning." You tried to talk but it was more of a croak. He put his finger to your lips telling you to be quiet.

He pulled out his phone and started tapping away, presumably texting John that you'd woken up. How long had you been there?

"A week." Sherlock spoke up, almost as though he was reading your mind. You knew better though, he'd just deduced it somehow.

You sat there for what felt like hours, just staring at each other. Marvelling in the fact that each other was safe. You'd thought Sherlock might have been happy but he just seemed, well... sad. As though there was something he wasn't telling you, and it bothered you immensely. However you knew better than to ask him. It wasn't like you'd get an answer. The silence and beauty of the moment was interrupted as John came into the room.

"Bloody hell (Y/N). I was worried sick out of my mind." He walked over to your bedside.

"Well, you know me John. Not one to give up to easily." You croaked out and gave him a weak smile.

John then looked up, finally acknowledging Sherlock's presence in the room. "I'll leave you two alone again then." John said before leaving the room.

You painfully turned back around to face Sherlock and motioned for him to come closer. He knelt on the floor, his eyes in perfect line with your (e/c) ones. Those beautiful eyes. You thought you might have never been able to see them again. As you looked into them it's like you were transported into another world. You were no longer scared or in pain you just felt calm, like nothing could ever hurt him. You reached out your non-broken arm and ran a hand through his hair. Another thing you thought you'd never do again. You shut your eyes as you were once again thrown into darkness, except this time, you were no longer scared.

* * * * *

As you fell asleep in front of him Sherlock felt something he hadn't in a while. A stray tear fell down his cheek and he was completely caught off guard by it. He lifted up his hand and quickly rubbed it away. But this wasn't a tear of sadness, no most definitely not. It was a tear of happiness. He tucked you in, all neat and tidy before returning to his position in the bedside chair. You were safe, but there was a chance you could have died. He couldn't keep doing this to you.

* * * * *

You'd been home for a couple weeks now, almost a month and you felt fine. However Sherlock and John were still tentative to let you come on any cases. John was a doctor and he knew you were in great health so why wasn't he letting you come along? You ran your hand through your (h/c) hair as you lay on the couch watching the telly. Your boys were out on another case you'd been left out of and you were once again sitting at the flat bored out of your mind. You jumped slightly as the door to the flat was thrown open and Sherlock strode into the room, followed behind by John as per usual. Sherlock had that usual look on his face, obviously he'd just solved another case.

"Done it again without me then, eh?" You said to the boys, in a very annoyed tone.

"Yes." Sherlock responded simply. Why did you like him again?

"Oh come on Sherlock, are you kidding me?" John was obviously not very pleased with him either.

"So when can I come on cases again? I'm perfectly fine!" You nagged, jumping up off the cough in front of them.

"Your current health has nothing to do with it, (Y/N)." Well well well, looks like you were finally going to get some answers out of Sherlock.

"So what is it then?" You responded, crossing your arms.

John and Sherlock exchanged a few glances before John walked out, leaving you alone with Sherlock. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you until he was just inches away.

"So, explain. Why aren't you letting me come on cases?" 

He lifed up his hand and ran it across your cheek slowly. "Because of this." He spoke quietly, almost a whisper.

The M. It had been healing but you could still make it out from a distance. You tried to cover it up with make up and hoped with all your heart that it would be gone soon.

"Everytime I bring you on a case youre in danger. It hurts me to know that at any minute something like this could happen again."

"It hurts me more when you don't bring me along." You spoke shakily, starting to cry as Sherlock moved his hand to wipe a tear away off your cheek.

"It's my decision, I'll be fine Sherlock." You continued. Sherlock sighed and his hand fell from your face obviously not pleased with your response. He didn't want to lose you again.


	14. Author's Note Part 2.

I've decided the next chapter will be the ending to this fic.  
I don't have the time/motivation to do it anymore and I need to wrap things up.  
So I need some input from you guys. How would you like it to end?  
I don't mean literally give me an ending but what do you want...  
Happy ending? Sad ending? Let me know c:


	15. Everything Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grand finale putting you straight into 'The Reichenbach Fall'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had one request for a sad ending, and one for a happy ending but they said they didn't mind a sad ending. So, it's gonna be sad. (Thank you both for your feedback by the way <3 )
> 
> I want to thank everyone who read it, and left kudos and comments. Thank you to all of you for sticking with me through my first fan fiction ever. I couldn't have done it without you.

It was your first case back with the boys and you couldn't be more excited. You'd been doing nothing for too long and you were ready to strut your stuff around a case again. Wearing a simple (f/c) sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans you walked with John and Sherlock to the scene. Sherlock's hand was firmly in yours and you squeezed it tighter with the anticipation of what you might find. Even though last time you'd been on a case you were kidnapped, you felt like you were ready for anything now. You ducked under the tape and smirked at Donovan as she glared at you and Sherlock holding hands. 

* * * * *

You'd soon solved that case and many more after. Sherlock was practically a celebrity now and it made you all the more proud to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be going right for you and your boys. You were eternally grateful you decided to leave home and come to London. And all the more greatful you'd never succeeded in your suicide attempts. But you didn't want to think about that anymore. You were happy and there was nothing else you could ask for. Except maybe a ring from Sherlock, but it didn't bother you too much. You were soon away on another case, investigating the kidnapping of the children of the British Ambassador to the US. You'd rescued them and were on your way to visit the kids again.

As you entered the hospital, Greg reminded the three of you that she was just a little girl and was most likely in a lot of shock. You looked up at Sherlock.

"Be nice to her." You grinned lovingly.

"When am I not nice?" He responded, genuinely curious.

All you could do was chuckle at how oblivious he was and hope to god that he didn't screw this up. You entered in slowly, John first, then you and Sherlock right behind. You grinned at the little girl, who was about seven when she looked up at you and stepped to the side. You were definitely not prepared for what happened next. As soon as Sherlock came into her field of view the little girl started screaming at the top of her lungs and pointing at Sherlock. All three of you started to panic as Lestrade came in and pulled Sherlock out of the room. You and John exchanged dumbfounded glances wondering what the hell was going on. 

* * * * *

Sherlock still hadn't spoken to you since then. It was extremely unsettling and you just wanted to help him. You knew he needed his space to think but you also knew he wasn't alright on his own. Silent tension once again filled the air as you squeezed into a cab together. Sherlock had told John to get into the next one saying 'he might think'. Obviously he trusted you not to interrupt him and you weren't sure how to feel about that. Suddenly, a program came on the screen up front and you immediately recognized the face of your kidnapper. You looked over to Sherlock who seemed just as worried. He looked into your eyes and immediately saw the pain and panic. You were filled up with a warm feeling as Sherlock pulled you close to him. 

Moriarty began telling a story about 'Sir Boast-A-Lot' and it was obvious to anyone that he was talking about Sherlock. You concern grew more and more for your boyfriend. His face was blank and analytical, obviously thinking very hard about something. One thing you hated about dating Sherlock was that sometimes you wished you could just read his mind and know what was going on inside of it. Not that you'd understand half of it anyways but it would be nice to not be in the blue all the time. As the story came to an end Sherlocks expression changed from analytical to one of anger. Something you didn't see on him often. And it worried you. You knew something was terribly wrong, unfortunately it was something you had yet to realize. Sherlock screamed for the cab to stop and it halted abruptly, causing you to fall forward a bit in your seat. You had no time to regain your compuser as Sherlock pulled you out of the cab and stuck you on the sidewalk. He ran up to the front window of the cab desperately demanding what that whole display was? You stood up and walked over, curious and terrified at the same time. You stopped in your tracks. Moriarty was driving the cab the whole time and you hadn't even known. The cab quickly sped away and Sherlock tried to run after it before stopping in the street. 

As he turned to face you, you saw an expression you hadn't seen on him in a while. An expression you hadn't seen since he found you broken and afraid on the floor. So many things could be said about that face. Fear, anger, pain all mixed together into one horrified face. You were scared too, I mean that had been Moriarty. But Sherlock was different, he was terrified about something else and you needed to figure out what it was, you didn't like not knowing. That was probably why you loved solving crimes so much. That, and Sherlock of course. 

"Sherlo-" You started to talk, desperate for answers.

You were so concerned for him that you hadn't even noticed the car careening down the roads, directly towards him. You took a step forward reaching your arm out and you started to yell before someone else pulled him out of the road. That was close, way too close. Your mind went blurry as you started to imagine what could have happened but you were pulled out of your daze by gunshots ringing out. You spun around quickly and found the man that had saved Sherlock had just been shot multiple times. This was all to much for you to process. You once again fell into a hazy state but you were quickly rescued again by John running out of his taxi. As John ran by he looked into your eyes and they were ones of equal fear and distress. He stopped and pulled you to your feet before taking you in a tight hug. It was however short lived as he ran to Sherlock, you trailing behind. 

"That was too close, Sherlock!" You said to him, tears starting to fall from your eyes. You just couldn't keep them in any longer. He looked at you for a mere second before John started talking, something about that guy being a gangster who lived a few doors down. It was just too much for you.

"Sherlock, this is all too much, you almost died!" You cried at him. Overwhelmed by your emotions.

"He died because I shook his hand." Sherlock spoke to no one in particular. 

"What?" It was all you could say.

"Saved my life, but he couldn't touch me. Why?" He continued on.

"Sherlock does that really matter right now! You were almost killed." You were starting to get angry with him and wanted him for once to just listen to you. 

He looked down at you, with an expression that said 'oh you were talking'? You started to get frustrated, even more so when he just bounded off down the road. Leaving you and John to once again share glances and follow along behind him. An exchange that was happening far too often. 

* * * * *

The flat was once again tense. You could've got the tension with scissors as they say. You sat on the edge of the couch, still frustrated and angry from the earlier exchange as Sherlock once again droned on trying to figure things out. Aparently there were assassinwho had moved into the area and Sherlock had something they wanted. If one of them got close to him, the others would kill them. Explainging why the man who saved Sherlock had been shot. But you didn't really care about that at the moment. You were more concerned about the fact that Sherlock seemed to be ignoring you more and more. Like he was trying to weed you off of him. You wanted to confront him but it felt like everytime you tried he had something more important to be doing. You couldn't blame him, he was in the line of fire constantly, especially during recent events. But it still ate away at you. Sherlock then bounced up out of his seat and you watched him as he flew around the room talking about dust.

"What's he on about?" Mrs Hudson asked you and John desperately but you were both just as confused.

"Cameras." Sherlock finally explained. "We're being watched."

You suddenly became extremely uncomfortable. Just as anyone would you hated the idea of being watched and not knowing about it. Sherlok continued to bound around the room climbing on top of things and shifting furniture. Until he finally came to focus on the bookshelf. You slowly shifted closer, and sure enough, there was a camera hidden behind a book. You felt a wave of fear wash over you as Sherlock's thoughts were confirmed. How long had they been watching? You turned around as you heard someone coming up the stairs and you were met with Lestrade whom John had just brought in. You stood in the background as Lestrade and Sherlock had their little conversation.

"The answer is no." Sherlock started.

"You haven't even heard the question!" Lestrade answered, obviously already annoyed.

"You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking." Taking him to the station? Sherlock better explain this quickly.

"Sherlock-" Lestrade was quickly cut off.

"The scream?"

"Yeah." You'd been curious about it too. You'd been with Sherlock for a while and you knew he wasn't running about kidnapping kids in his spare time. Or did he? You really hated that even you were starting to question the man you'd come to love. You continued to listen quietly, desperate for more answers.

"Who was it? Donovan? I Bet it was Donovan. " Oh how you hated that woman. You wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to blame Sherlock for something. "Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty's smart. He planted that doubt in her head. The little nagging sensation you got to have to be strong to resist." Something you new Donovan was not. "You can't kill an idea can you. Not once it's made a home... there." He touched Lestrade's forehead. This man spoke quite eloquently sometimes. 

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked. 

"One photograph, that's his next move." You'd come to realise especially recently that he had a tendancy to not answer questions. "Moriarty's game. First the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch." You had met Moriarty and you knew only a mad man like him would think to bring down Sherlock. You started to worry if Moriarty might really be capable of doing it. He had already proven he was a match for the great detective. "it is a game Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play." This surprised you and made you realize the size of the situation. Sherlock always loved games like this so if he didn't want to play, he knew Moriarty was able to take him down as well. And this scared you. 

After Lestrade had left Sherlock and John started talking again. Sherlock was telling John that he was afraid that everyone was right about him being a fraud. He denied it but you knew it was true, because you were feeling the exact same way. You just wanted to lay down and get away before Sherlock could start interrogating you too but as soon as you took a step he caught you with his gaze. Those eyes that you could tell were deducing you because he looked the exact same way the first time you'd met him. 

"You're thinking it too." You knew he'd figure out but even the tiny hope that we wouldn't was now crushed. You didn't know what to say as John stared at you. The knowing eyes of your old friend catching your (e/c) ones.

"Moriarty's playing with your minds." He spoke to both of you now. You were once again caught in John's gaze as you both tried to find some way to respond.

"Can't you see what's going on!?" Sherlock started to yell and you flinched, a bit. It didn't happen often that he yelled at you. But of course you'd seen a lot of infrequent traits popping up recently. John broke away from your gaze and looked out the window. You suddenly felt trapped by Sherlock and decided you had to speak. You let out a breath before starting and calmed yourself down.

"No. I know you're for real." John looked over at you and Sherlock just continued to stare.

"A hundred percent?" He asked you? You felt your anger returning to you from staring at him for too long.

"Yea. Because no one could fake being such an asshole of a boyfriend!" You yelled. You realized what you had just said before it was too late and you ran off to your room crying. You knew it was Sherlock's room as well, and he'd be there eventually but at least you had solidarity for a little while.

* * * * *

You and Sherlock's relationship had officially fallen apart. You'd chosen to sleep on the couch from now on to avoid spending anymore time with him than you had to. It burned to be apart from him because you knew you still loved him, but you couldn't go crawling back to him. Now he'd been arrested on suspicion of kidnapping those kids. After someone who you assumed was from Scotland yard had come in and was talking about Sherlock, John had broken his nose. And you couldn't stop yourself from taking a shot at Donovan. Now you were all headed down with Sherlock. Or at least that's what you and John thought. Sherlock pulled a gun on everyone and claimed you and John as his hostages. You were all three of you then forced to run for your lives, all while still awkwardly handcuffed together. You hated being this close to Sherlock but you knew it was necessary.

"What are you doing?" You yelled as you ran away from the sirens.

"Doing what Moriarty wants. Becoming a fugitive." You couldn't help but think this was a terrible idea but if it was Sherlock, he'd figure something out.

You were backed up against a wall as sirens were heard all around.

"So what's the plan now 'great detective'?" You sassed him.

"Everybody wants to believe it. That's what makes it so clever." Once again not answering your question. If you weren't cuffed to him, you'd slap him. "A lie that's preferable to the truth." So Moriarty is a genius. You already knew that. You were literally ripped from your thoughts as Sherlock started to run off again.

Sherlock noticed one of the new 'neighbours' had been following the three of you and decided it was best to run in front of a bus. You were too panicked at the time to realize what he was doing and started to freak out, being dragged along by the cuffs. Of course though the man saved you. And Sherlock interrogated the man for answers. Finding out that Moriarty left a keycode at his flat. However you couldn't find out anything more as the man was swiftly shot, Sherlock explained to you and John that there was a key that could break into any system in your flat right now. Sherlock told you both that you had to get back to the flat immediately and was about to run off again before you turned around and saw a newspaper. Rich Brook. He'd spoken to a woman named Kitty who had written an article on the 'Truth about Sherlock Holmes'. You handed it to Sherlock and for the first time in a while he seemed impressed with what you'd found.

* * * * *

You'd went to visit Kitty to find out who Brooke was and you were met with the last person you'd expected to see. Moriarty. Expect he wasn't adorned in his fancy Westwood suit, no. He was dressed up like a casual citizen and came in through the door carrying groceries. You were extremely confused and looked to Sherlock for answers. Kitty attempted to explain to you that there is no Moriarty and you were freaking out. She claimed he was an actor, that Sherlock hired to play the character of Morairty. You looked at Sherlock your eyes begging for answers. You were conflicted and had no idea what to believe anymore. Although your confusion caused silent panic, John was sent into a loud rage. 

Moriarty, no wait, Richard, claimed to have proof that he was an actor. Of course both you and John demanded to see it. You were handed a portfolio. Full of Richard's roles as a kids television story teller. It all seemed legitimate to you and you started to panic more, sweat beading down your forehead. What if it was true? Sherlock had been playing you the whole time? Playing John? You didn't want to believe it but the evidence was right in front of you. Sherlock then started yelling and chasing Richard up the stairs. You and John once again chased after him but Richard escaped out the window. John still seemed to believe Sherlock was the hero but you weren't sure what to think anymore. John had been with Sherlock longer than you had and obviously trusted him more. But You? Well, maybe he was capable of everything he'd been suspected of. He claimed he had something he needed to do on his own. And you and John were left to each other again.

* * * * *

You hadn't seen Sherlock in a while and you and John were both worrying. You weren't exactly sure what he was capable of anymore and you were bloody well sure he was thinking of something utterly dangerous. A million things were going through your brain about what might be going on. You desperately wanted to turn London upside down to find him but John had urged you to stay safe. You didn't believe that though. Nowhere was safe. You used to feel safe when you were wish Sherlock. But now, he could really be insane for all you knew. Your mind burned with all that had been presented to you over the past few days and all you wanted was som reassurance. Whether it be confirmation of Sherlock's innocence, or his guilt. You didn't care anymore. You sat in the taxi as both you and John wondered what the hell could be going on. As we jumped out of the taxi John's phone rang. He answered and you followed his gaze as he looked up at the roof. Sherlock. John quickly turned to speakerphone seeing your concern as well.

"What is this?" John started.

"An apology. It's all true."

"What?" You and John asked simultaneously. You had honestly hoped he was innocent. Was he really guilty this whole time?

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."

"Why are you saying this?"

"I'm a fake." You didn't want to believe it. But at the same time you did.

"Sherlock!" You and John both yelled angrily.

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade. I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes." You grabbed the phone from John.

"Sherlock. The first time we met. You knew all about my habits." You started to cry.

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could." You choked down a sob as the reality of the situation became more and more evident. It didn't even matter to you anymore whether he was guilty or not. You just wanted him safe. 

"I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. It's just a magic trick."

"Stop it right now!" You and John chimed in together once more. 

"Keep your eyes fixed on me." He requested it but it was so hard to. To see him pulled to such desperate lengths that you used to be. "Please will you do this for me?'

"Do what?" You squeaked out between tears.

"This phone call, it's, um.. It's my note. It's what people do don't they? Leave a note?."

"Leave a note when?" John was clearly still in denial but you were already sobbing. You knew what was coming.

"Goodbye John." You looked at John for a second and saw his broken expression. "And (y/n), I'm sorry I wasn't the boyfriend you hoped for." You choked down more tears as he brought the ohone down to his side. Life seemed to slow down as Sherlock fell in freefall from the top of the biulding all the way to the ground.

* * * * *

Two years. Two years since he had killed himself. John had moved on and met a woman but you hadn't been able to. They'd cleared Sherlock of all suspicion after his death and you were relieved to know he was innocent. But now it meant nothing to you. You promised yourself you'd never do it again but here you were. Standing on the railing of a bridge. Ready to send yourself over. After Sherlock had died you knew what suicide would do to the people around you. Now however, you were already too far over the edge. IT was raining just like the first day you'd met him and the wind was blowing. You removed your grip from the railing and stood up straight.

"(Y/N)" You thought you heard Sherlock calling out for you. Great now you were hearing voices. But you were soon proven wrong. You looked to the left and you saw him. Running down the bridge towards you.

"Sherlo-?" You tried to turn to face him but you lost your footing. You saw Sherlock reaching out for you before you plummeted off the edge. 

Time slowed down just like it had when Sherlock had jumped off the roof. He wasn't dead. You weren't going to greet him in heaven or whatever afterlife there was. The last times you'd tried to kill yourself you felt ready to die. But now, you were scared. You shut your eyes and all you saw was Sherlock's horrified face. Seconds later, his face was gone and so was everything else.


	16. Chapter 16

What's this? An announcement? Perhaps reader-chan is not dead....


	17. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're back. But in a rage of emotions things are different between you and Sherlock. How long have you been in hospital anyways?

221b. That's where you were. Your vision was blurry and out of focus but you could recognize it anywhere. Your body was adorned in a white flowing dress as you reached forward and opened the door. You looked up the stairs, your (e/c) eyes drawn to the white light emanating from the door to the flat. You were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It gave off a warmth and welcoming you couldn't describe. You slowly made your way up the stairs toward the light. Toward freedom. That's what your instinct told you. You (h/c) hair was suddenly whipping around your face. The door that led to the street had been thrown open. A (f/c) light emanating from this doorway. It gave off a different feeling. It made you feel fuzzy. You heard muffled voices coming from the door and the faint sound of a siren. You knew the white door would lead to freedom, whatever that meant. But curious got the best of you as you turned, making your way down the stairs and through the (f/c) doorway.

* * * * *

Wet. Cold. Pain. Your senses slowly returned to you. You opened your eyes and your vision was once again blurry. You made out the shape of a figure leaning above you but you couldn't focus on who they were as you started to choke. You felt as though you were throwing up as you choked up water from your longs. The pain was intense as you felt yourself slipping from consciousness once again. 

"(Y/N) stay with me. Come on!" Everything sounded fuzzy but you made out the words of someone yelling in your ear. You used the last of your strength to turn your head towards the voice. You felt as your body started to feel warm as you looked into those icey blue eyes. Of course it was him. Pain racked your body once again as you were lifted onto a stretcher, everything returning to black once again. The low whistle of the ambulance siren was the last thing filling your ears before you were entirely gone.

* * * * *

White. It was all you could see. Maybe you were dead. You wouldn't have been opposed to it, that had been your end goal after all. You attempted to lift your arm to cover your eyes from the blaring light. However as pain shot through your body all you could do was groan and attempt to shut your eyes to avoid the light from getting in. Your eyes widened as you started to choke on something in your throat. 

"(Y/N)?!" You turned around, your wide eyes meeting with those of your boyfriends. Or ex-boyfriends. You weren't really sure to define it, he had died for all you knew. "Don't worry I'm getting help!"  
He left the room, and seconds later he returned with nurses in tow. They removed the breathing tube from your throat and you were finally able to breathe easy.

"Sherlock?" You tried to speak but it was raspy and hurt your throat. You soon felt relief as Sherlock was tipping water down your throat. That's right. Sherlock! You jumped up sending water all over yourself but you didn't care. 

"You probably have questions." He spoke before you could. You were conflicted over whether you wanted to punch him or hug him but you decided to just stay frozen. So many things were racing through your head and you tried to pull thugs together in order to form a coherent thought. 

"Why?" It was the first question that came to your mind. Why did he fake his death? Why had he come back? Why did he save you? Sherlock stepped back. He had to think for a moment about his answer. It seemed like a simple question but it was far more complicated then that. Things never did seem to be easy. He stuttered over words for a moment trying to think of what to say. That's funny. You thought to yourself, the great Sherlock Holmes stuttering because of you.

"Because I love you." It seemed a fitting answer and he seemed proud of himself. From what you could see on the outside anyways. A thousand different emotions raced through you. You wanted to love him and hate him all at the same time. If he loved you why did he let himself die? In your mind anyways. But rescuing showed you that maybe he did love you. But in your current position your feelings of hatred were overpowering. Tears started to fill your eyes as you processed your emotions. Sherlock reached forward to wipe them away as he had done a hundred time before, but he was taken back as you shoved his hand away.

"Please leave." You pushed out through tears. You didn't want to see him right now. You weren't in the mood to hear his explanations and excuses. You just wanted to be alone. He tried to speak, his features nothing but shock. He tried to convince you to let him stay, anything but as your tear filled eyes met his he shut his gaping mouth. Sherlocks eyes ridden with sadness he knew enough to know it was best for him to leave you alone right now. So he did. He turned and walked out the door, his coat billowing behind him. You almost immediately regretted your choice, wanting him there to hold you. But then you remembered he hasn't been there to hold for the past two years. He hadn't been there to hold you when you cried yourself to sleep at night, or to stop you as you held the blade to your skin. So you simply fell back into the hospital bed and let sleep take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to requests how you want things to go!


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